Divergence
by Zion Angel
Summary: All things change, including the great Tony Stark. Pepper Potts doesn't quite know what to make of it, but she's beginning to like it. Tony/Pepper
1. Bells

This fic has been hounding me for a month, and I figure the best way to get myself to _finally_ finish it is to start posting. This fic follows the same storyline as _Absence_, if you read that (also, _French Fries_ started as a little two-sentence mention in chapter two of this fic). Speaking of _Absence_, there are a few things I should note: this fic is rather angsty. I do not do alternate universe, so Tony and Pepper will _not_ be a couple by the end of this. This chapter and the last will basically follow the movie, and will not be entirely original scenes. If you don't like any of these things, stop reading now.

This chapter may not be the most interesting, but I promise it gets better (and a good deal longer). Enjoy. :)

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Divergence

Chapter One

"Bells"

--

The fact that he didn't mention sex, or women, or fancy singles' bars, or blonds, or high skirts and low tops, or anything even remotely related to any of the above the first moment he got off the plane should have tipped her off that something was amiss. What else could Tony Stark be expected to want after three months spent in captivity where, most likely, there was not a single female in sight?

Even if that didn't set off any bells in her head, some should have gone off when he asked the reporters to sit on the floor like first-graders at story time, when he spoke in sincere and heartfelt tones about his father, the American soldiers and having his eyes opened. It was unfamiliar, coming from him, there was no doubt about that, but still Pepper Potts was completely blindsided when he stood up, moved to the microphones, and finally got to the point of the press conference he had so adamantly insisted upon.

"Effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International -" Pepper's heart stopped and her jaw fell open as Obadiah ushered him away from the podium. She barely caught the end of his sentence. "- until such a time as I can decide what the future of this company will be, what direction it should take, one that I am comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country and the world." The last few words faded out as Obadiah took over. Pepper never heard what he said before running out of the room after her boss.

As she caught up to him, the security guards at the door preventing any reporters from following them, any thoughts of protesting, or asking if he was joking fell away. She was at a complete loss for words, and she almost couldn't believe what she had just heard. This was Tony Stark - _the Tony Stark_ - the son of Manhattan Project, weapons designer Howard Stark, who had lived his entire life with an unwavering faith that the best weapons were the means to peace and prosperity. And now all of that was just… _gone_ in an instant.

But as she followed him out the doors and back to the car, she realized that it wasn't in an instant - whatever had brought him to this decision had three months to develop. Her protesting mind quieted 

when she realized this, when it sank in that he had not simply been _missing_ until yesterday, but that he had been a _prisoner_ until yesterday. He had seen his weapons turned against innocent people, against himself. He hadn't yet told her - or anyone else, she suspected - what had happened over there, but Pepper now realized that whatever it was, seeing the destruction and death his weapons had caused with his own eyes, for the first time, had done something to him. She could only guess that whatever terrors he had experienced must have been more awful than she could imagine.

When they were in the car, after he told Happy to take them to his office, she sighed, and turned to him. "Are you sure about this?"

He met her eyes, holding them resolutely. "I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life."


	2. Letter

Here we are, chapter two. I am pleased to report that I have actually managed to get some more work done on the remaining chapters, and should have everything done on schedule.

Thanks for the reviews so far, and I hope you enjoy. :)

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Divergence

Chapter Two

"Letter"

--

Pepper could barely keep her mind on the work in front of her. She wasn't used to that feeling, and she didn't like it. She was trying to boil down dozens of files she had retrieved from Tony's office computer, turning countless pages of data on the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries into something that was actually comprehensible, so that he could decide what, specifically, he was going to do. But even with her best efforts, she could only keep her mind focused on the computer for two or three minutes, at most, before thoughts of him tried to creep into her consciousness.

After two hours, she finally gave in, sighing as she leaned back in her chair and tried to wrap her head around everything. This day had turned out nothing like she was expecting yesterday, after her tears of joy had subsided, and even less like the day she had prayed for every minute for the last three months. Even if she was being unrealistic about it, she had expected a reunion - return, her mind chided, _return_ - full of smiles and three months of pent-up banter and jokes. Yesterday there hadn't been a doubt in her mind that she would have the guts to hug him when he came back, consequences be damned, and tell him that she missed him, at the very least. But it had been all business and she had lost her nerve - and she could have sworn he did to - and they fell back into their old roles, his assistant, her boss.

She hadn't ever told him that she missed him or had been afraid… they hadn't really _talked_ at all, just sat through mostly awkward silences when Pepper wasn't on the phone with news agencies, either telling them to send reporters to Stark Industries immediately, or fending off their calls afterwards. And then there was Tony himself, the man who would hit on anything in high heels but had yet to make a pass at Pepper or any other woman they had come across today, who apparently had a whole new philosophy on life in general, who… God, it was like she didn't even _know_ the man who stepped off the plane this morning -

"Pepper?" She jumped as he startled her, and looked up to find him standing in her doorway, blazer and tie gone, looking slightly less serious. He was fidgeting with a yellow legal pad in his hands. "Sorry…." He rubbed the back of his neck, staring around her office. If she didn't know any better, she would almost say that he was nervous at being around her. "Do you have a minute?" Before she could be surprised that he had even asked, he continued. "I wanted to write a letter to all the employees in the weapons division."

"No, of course I have time." She pulled her chair back to her desk, poising her fingers over the keyboard. "What do you want it to say?"

"Uh…" He stared down at the pad of paper in his hand. "No, I already wrote it, but I'm not sure how good it is. I need you to help me polish it up a little."

When he looked up again, she was gaping at him. She quickly realized what she was doing and closed her mouth, but it took a moment longer to form words. "You… _wrote it_? Yourself?"

A small smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth, and part of her mind was aware enough to be grateful for the sense of normalcy it brought with it. "Yes, Miss Potts. That big fancy education I got actually included reading and writing."

Pepper shook her head, trying to be professional. "No, you're right, I just… like, the whole letter? Not just main ideas, you wrote the entire letter yourself?"

The friendly laugh he gave her as he pulled a chair around to her side of the desk was the most comforting experience of the entire day. She was blushing, and felt a strange mixture of discomfort and relief at their closeness as he handed her the paper and she began to read.

_To all Stark Industries Employees:_

_As you have no doubt heard, I recently returned to the United States after spending three months in captivity in Afghanistan. I am extremely grateful to be back home. While the past three months have been some of the worst of my life, they have also been by far the most influential._

_Three months ago, I saw my weapons used in combat for the first time. I saw a dozen American soldiers killed by weapons I had designed, and I was very nearly killed by them myself. I realized that all of those soldiers, as well as every other person, friend and enemy alike, who has been killed by my weapons had a family and people who loved them and would miss them. Experiencing these things first hand has made me realize that the glorified fantasy I have believed in for my entire life is far from the reality of the death and sadness that my weapons have caused. I cannot, in good conscience, continue to have any part in this reality. As such, I have decided that the only right and moral thing to do is to shut down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International._

_Please understand that this decision is by no means impulsive. I have had all the time in the world to consider it, and I always return to the conclusion that this is best for everyone - Stark Industries, American and the world._

_I understand that it is very difficult and frightening to hear on a personal level, but Stark Industries will continue, and I personally guarantee that all employees at all levels affected by this change will be well cared for. All employees wishing to leave the company will be given a generous severance package. Those employees who choose to remain with Stark Industries during this transition will continue to receive full pay until their services are needed again._

_The precise future of Stark Industries has yet to be determined, but have no doubt that it will continue on and it will become a company that makes a positive impact on the world._

Pepper glanced up at him when she had finished reading. He was fidgeting with the corner of her desk - and _again_, she was wholly tempted to say he was doing so nervously - staring at the sheen of the glass 

tabletop as he waited for her to finish. She used his moment of distraction, carefully scrutinizing the side of his face, looking past the eyes and features she had come to miss so terribly, trying to see all the way down to the man who had written this letter. Maybe if she found him she could ask him who he was and what he had done with Tony Stark -

He seemed to sense her eyes burning into his skin, and quickly looked up and straightened in his seat. He cleared his throat and briefly met her eyes. "So what do you think? Good, bad…?"

Pepper shook her head slightly, and with an exasperated laugh stared down at the pages again. "Well, I think that if it weren't written in nearly illegible chicken scratch, I still wouldn't believe you had written it yourself."

He stared blankly at her for a moment. "Which means…?"

She grinned at him. "Which means it's… vastly better than what I was expecting." She studied a few lines again before continuing. "It's actually pretty good, based on its own merit. I really don't think you need to change very much, just a few word choices and maybe rearrange things a little." She turned back to him, and found him staring at her with a small smile of relief, as though her approval meant everything to him. She smiled a little, too, as they began making changes together, and when they were finished, and he went back to whatever it was he needed to be doing.

She sighed, and tried again to understand the ever-changing mystery that was Tony Stark. She came up with nothing, as before, and set her mind to the task of typing up the letter, and emailing it to Stark Industries headquarters.


	3. Affection

Divergence

Chapter Three

"Affection"

--

It was almost painfully awkward, wandering around the mansion looking for him. The only thing she had with her was her blackberry, which she didn't really need, but had brought anyway so she would have something to fidget with and keep her nerves down. Again, she contemplated asking Jarvis where he was, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. Part of her almost didn't want to find him - but fortunately a greater part of her did, as she passed by the kitchen to find him crouched in front of the virtually empty fridge. _Oh, no_.

"Tony -" He jumped when he heard her voice, nearly knocking out a bottle of water, one of the few things inside. "Sorry…" she muttered, more for startling him. "I'm sorry there's nothing, I didn't even think -"

"No, hey," he said quickly, standing straight. "It's fine. It's not your fault, I should have…." He trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, having nothing to say.

"I, uh," Pepper stuttered, remembering why she was looking for him. "I finished those reports you wanted, they're ready when you need them, um…." She couldn't quite look at him, and her eyes darted around the kitchen. She fidgeted with her phone for a moment more, before remembering something else. "A lot of people called, for interviews and -" Tony shook his head adamantly, taking a deep breath that shook his shoulders just a little. She regretted bringing up the subject. It was too early for that - she knew there was no way he could handle an interview right now, or probably any time soon. "What do you want me to tell them?"

"Just tell them what I've already said," he replied with a half-sincere indifference. "I've had my eyes opened and I realized what it is that I've really been doing all these years, and I'm not going to be responsible for any more people getting killed. I'm gonna figure out something to do that really does help people." There was honesty and resolve in his eyes, but it was clouded by something else she didn't like, something that almost frightened her.

She nodded slowly, though he wasn't looking at her. He had taken the bottle of water out, and was staring at it like it was the breakthrough invention that would save the world. "And the ones that ask about…" She trailed off, gesturing randomly at the air around her in an attempt to find some reasonable word to use.

"Nothing. It's irrelevant."

"Oh," she whispered, her face falling. She couldn't describe what she saw in his face and eyes, except that it told her that his words were not true. Even without looking at him, she would know that the horrors he had faced were life-changing, and she wished he would tell her - _someone_ - about it, if only to take some of the weight off of his shoulders. "So…" She stared around, at the cabinets, at him, at the blackberry in her hands, but could think of nothing else to say. She wished there was something more, but unfortunately, she had said everything that he needed to know. "Will that be all Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah," he muttered, finally meeting her eyes - but only for a second. "Thanks for the help."

"Well, then I guess… I guess I'll head home, then." He didn't move, and she slowly turned back toward her office to retrieve her purse. She hated herself more and more with every step she took. She hadn't done anything she was supposed to - anything she really needed and wanted to do, not this boring office work. She had _sworn_ to herself that she would tell him she loved him as soon as he stepped off of the plane, and she chickened out of that, and now she was acting like something even worse than his assistant - like just some _person_ who not only didn't love him but didn't care about him at all for anything more than her paycheck. The only time she had even told him she missed him had been in the heat of the moment yesterday, during their brief call while he was still at the air base in Afghanistan -

_Oh, _stop_ being such an idiot, Pepper!_ She stopped in her tracks, a surge of courage and determination welling up in her. She _was_ being an idiot. She loved him, she had missed him and wanted to tell him so, wanted to comfort him and try to take away some of whatever it was that was hurting him so much. So what if she hadn't done anything before? It didn't mean she couldn't do anything now, and they were both still in the same room.

Pepper sighed heavily, pocketed her phone as she turned and walked calmly back to where Tony stood. He looked confused (and maybe a little scared), but she said nothing, and continued moving toward him at the same pace until she reached him. With absolutely no hesitation or care for what might happen, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him comfortably close as she rested her chin in the crook of his neck. He tensed in her arms and froze, but within a few seconds he relaxed, and brought his arms up around her waist, squeezing gently.

She sighed, all of her breath shuddering out at once and taking her fear and anger and self-loathing and everything else with it, leaving her happy and grateful that the man she loved was safe, and that she could finally just have a moment with him.

He pulled her a little closer, and she squeezed his shoulders tighter. She felt something hard press into the center of her chest, the same smooth surface that she accidentally touched in the car after the press conference. He had told her what it was and what it did, and he tried to show her, but she had refused - she was afraid to see it, to see proof that she had almost lost him. That same fear surfaced in her again as she felt the thing more surely than she had before, but she tried to fight it down, to remind herself that he _was_ alive in her arms, and to keep the fear from ruining this moment. She succeeded well enough.

"I'm really," she whispered after a moment, "really, really, _really_ happy that you're okay, Tony." Her voice cracked a little, and she felt the air between them becoming awkward. But it was not nearly awkward enough to make her release him. "I'm so glad you're back." Through a nervous, upset and happy sigh, she felt a few tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "I missed you."

He pressed his face closer to her neck, his beard brushing against the skin as he smiled. He held her as close as he probably dared, and let a silent moment pass before speaking. "I missed you too, Pepper. A lot."

They stayed this way for perhaps thirty seconds before she finally realized just how uncomfortable this situation was - hugging the boss she secretly loved just a little too tightly on the day he returned from three months of captivity and near certain death.

A nervous laugh escaped her, and she slowly pulled away, not looking at him. He seemed to have felt the same uneasiness, and they both muttered quick apologies. Their eyes met by accident, and she smiled before lowering her eyes and stepping away. "Good night, Mr. Stark." She turned slowly, and headed back toward her office to get her keys and purse, as she had originally planned.

"Pepper -"

His voice was so quiet, desperate even, that she stopped immediately and turned back to him. She watched as he opened and shut his mouth, eyes darting around as if searching for the cue card that would tell him what to say, but in the end he just forced a smile that didn't fool her for a second. "Have a good night."

But she didn't move. She just watched him fidget with the bottle and pretend to do random tasks in the kitchen as her heart sank. He was scared, and he couldn't keep it from showing in his eyes anymore. Even though he was back, he felt alone, and he was afraid of that. She knew he needed someone, whether he would admit it or not. He was trying to pretend he was okay, but there was no way she could leave him now.

"Tony," she began, swallowing when her voice came out hoarse. "Would you… would you like me to stay here tonight?"

He flinched as if her words had burned him, and she could see him trying to put up a front of calm indifference, of strength, but he failed miserably. "No, no, it's fine. I'm fine. Go home. You must have plans…."

It was endearing, in a way, to watch him try to be the usual Tony, but it hurt her to see it when she _knew_ what was really going on. "No," she said, with a small, kind smile and one shake of the head. "No plans." His eyes flickered up to her, hopefully, pleadingly, but he turned them away just as quickly. "Tony," she continued softly, suddenly calm and sure in her ability to make him do what was best for him. "If you want me to stay, I'll stay. You just have to ask."

He glanced up to her gentle and comforting smile, and she saw his need to be strong break. He surrendered gratefully. "Yeah." He nodded slowly.

"Okay," she smiled. She was glad he gave in - for him, and for herself. "Well, in that case, I should go to the store and pick up a few things." She watched him carefully, and she could already see the tension in his shoulders releasing. "What do you want for dinner?" She felt a slight smirk on her face as he considered the question, and she decided that the mood in the room could stand to be lightened. "And I suppose, just this once, I could let you have five cheeseburgers in one day."

Tony grinned shyly, and lowering his eyes like an embarrassed child. "Seven," he corrected, rubbing the back of his neck. He ventured a glance back up, and when he saw her gaping at him, he laughed. "Hogan went and got me a couple more while you were in my office…."

Pepper rolled her eyes in shocked horror, but she couldn't help but laugh, too.

She managed to get him to laugh some more at dinner (pizza, not burgers), crack a few lighthearted jokes and banter with her a few times. But he was only distracted, not free of the demons and ghosts of the last three months. Those were still there, and they were not going away any time soon. So when she reluctantly went to bed, leaving him alone so he could finally get some sleep, she gave Jarvis strict instructions. She told him to wake her for even the slightest problem - a nightmare, insomnia - and if Tony should ask if she was awake, he was to say yes no matter what, and wake her if it was a lie.

She lay in the guest bed for over an hour before finally succumbing to a shallow, restless and worried sleep.


	4. Nightmares

So this chapter is shorter than the last two, I'm sorry to say. But the next one will be REALLY long, so no worries. With any luck it should be posted same time tomorrow.

And as for the content of this chapter… some of you just need to be patient about these things. ;)

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Divergence

Chapter Four

"Nightmares"

--

Her first waking moments were a confused blur of fear and panic beneath Jarvis' voice as she stumbled out of the tangled silk and into the hallway. She became more conscious with each stride as she ran down the dark corridor to Tony's bedroom door, hearing his muffled cries before she even reached for the handle.

She shoved the door open, keeping up her frantic speed until she stood beside him, one leg bent and resting on the bed beside him. She ignored his thrashing limbs and grabbed his shoulders, squeezing and shaking with all her strength to wake him. He kept going, still fighting his nightmare attacker, clawing at his own chest and then pushing her off of him. She called his name, and when that got no response, she shouted it as loudly as she could and shook his shoulders hard, and no sooner had she leaned over him than he bolted upright in panic, shouting incoherently and shoving her away violently.

She landed back on the bed, half of her body hanging over the edge above the floor, and the rest gripping the bedspread tightly as he stared at her with wide, petrified eyes, his breathing fast and ragged as if he had been drowning. Comprehension flashed through his eyes, but Pepper stayed frozen as he clutched at the metal in his chest compulsively, as if to ensure that it was really there.

When it was clear that he was fully awake and lucid enough to realize that whatever he felt was only a dream, she sat back up, crawling across the short distance between them to pull him against her. She wrapped one arm protectively across his back, and pressed the other to his neck, both damp with sweat. "It's okay," she whispered, holding him tighter as he shivered. "It's okay, Tony, you're safe. You're home." He clutched the silk fabric at her back (and she had to fight away disconnected and selfish thoughts about being in a knee-length nightgown in his bed in the middle of the night), pulling her as close as he could get her as his breath shuddered in and out. She felt him trembling, just a little in her arms, and she ran a hand up and down the length of his neck and shoulder, still whispering to him. "You're safe, you're home. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

She didn't even try to track how long they stayed like this. She didn't move until his breathing finally slowed, and her words finally seemed to be soothing him. She pulled back just enough to see his face, though she couldn't read it very well in the darkness. She brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I'm going to get you some water." She lifted his chin and forced him to look at her. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She returned from the bathroom some twenty seconds later, carrying a cup of water and a damp washcloth, both cold. Pepper helped him take a few sips of the water, and slowly ran the washcloth over his forehead, temples, and across his face and neck. It didn't calm him completely, but it helped. After a minute or two of this, she folded the cloth once and laid it across the back of his neck, holding it there gently.

She wanted to ask him if he was okay, out of instinct, but she already knew the answer, and that he didn't feel like speaking to answer a pointless question. But the silence was killing her, and she suspected it was doing the same to him. "Do you need anything?"

His eyes opened - she hadn't even realized they were closed in the dark - and stared down at the water in his hands. "A drink."


	5. Memories

So, for various reasons (including me being very distracted by certain things and my muse just generally being a bitch and not wanting to _work on this damn fic_) I literally just finished up the last of this a few minutes before posting. I had all the dialogue written out, but hadn't actually fleshed it out. So here's the long chapter, unedited - I'll hopefully be able to force my muse to concentrate long enough to do something about that tomorrow. Looks like there'll be two more chapters to this.

Enjoy!

--

Divergence

Chapter Five

"Memories"

--

Pepper retrieved her slippers and robe from the guest room as she went with him downstairs. He decided he wanted to go to his shop, where he was most comfortable, and she didn't argue. He flopped down on the black leather couch as soon as he reached it, and Pepper poured him a glass of his best scotch.

When she brought him the drink, she sat sideways beside him, one leg tucked underneath her with her silk robe draped over her knees. She studied his profile as he took a few slow sips, and she was nearly terrified by what she saw. Everything was catching up with him, right here and right now, all the fear and the pain and the stress of whatever had happened. He may have escaped his captors, but he had not escaped what they had done to him.

She has never, in the nearly five years they've known each other, seen him in such a condition, because he never would have let her. He would have hidden away behind his barriers, mental or physical until he had dealt with the problem sufficiently enough to push it aside. He just can't do that now.

They said nothing for a long time, and she watched him sip his drink slowly. He didn't even seem to enjoy it.

"Do you want to talk?" she barely whispered. She knew the answer - but he couldn't seem to overcome his fear enough to let the words out. She didn't blame him - she wouldn't want to have to relive those memories either - but…. "I think it'll make you feel better, if you -"

Without warning, he gritted his teeth, threw his head back and downed the rest of the scotch in one gulp. She stared, startled, as he pushed the empty glass onto the edge of the table. After a moment of contemplation, she reluctantly stood, and brought the whole bottle of scotch back to the table. He always drank too much, for her tastes especially, and it had gotten him into more trouble than she cared to think about. And after three months without so much as a drop of alcohol, he'd be drunk faster than ever. Pepper didn't want him doing this now, but she also knew it was the only way he would ever be able to talk about his ordeal. And as much as she hated it, she knew this was the lesser of two evils. A drunken Tony releasing his burden was better than a sober Tony bottling it inside.

She poured more scotch into the glass, and he took it from her hand before she could even set the bottle back on the table. She tried not to stare as he drank that one in three smaller gulps.

As she poured him his third glass - _In as many minutes, not good_ - she decided that he could only delay this so long, that he could only take so much strength from a drink.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"It… they were, um…" he began shakily. At least he was able to get something out. He gestured to his chest. "They were putting it in…." She glanced down, and through the thick fabric of his shirt, she saw a faint blue glow which she had not noticed before. An instantaneous and sharp fear cut through her chest and her eyes darted away. To see it with her own eyes, to have proof of its existence beyond Tony's word, as it had been today in the car, was petrifying. He had told her the basics - the shrapnel, the reactor and the magnet this powered. She knew this thing was keeping him alive, and that knowledge inevitably led to the fact that he had very nearly died, that he had been mere centimeters, seconds, and volts away from never coming back to her again. The absolute last thing she wanted was to think about that.

But then she heard him exhale sharply, and take another sip of the scotch, and she realized that he had to do far more than just _see_ the miniaturized arc reactor. It was _inside_ him, a part of him for the rest of his life (however long or short that may be). He had built it, and now she was asking him to relive that day and every other for the last three horrific months. And here she was, without even the courage to put on a brave face and just _look_ at a damn piece of equipment. The absolute _least_ she could do was be calm about this. He didn't deserve a repeat the scene in the car earlier, when he began opening his shirt after telling her about it, and she turned away as he worked on only the second button, harshly whispering that she didn't want to see it.

Digging her fingernails into her palms, Pepper steeled herself and turned back to him, focusing her eyes on the perfect circle of muted light in his chest.

"And then they were torturing me because I wouldn't make them anything, and…"

"What happened?" she whispered, still so afraid that her voice was strangled. Part of her - a very strong and significant part, actually - didn't want to know what he had been doing and going through while she suffered back home, crying or drowning herself in work or wallowing in a thousand _what if_'s when she just couldn't distract herself form the situation. But she knew better, that despite appearances she wanted to know more than she didn't, and more importantly, he needed to tell her. He needed to release some of this burden, and she was the only one who could take it for him. "What actually happened, I mean? When…."

She watched as Tony took another sip, the contents of his glass already more depleted than she would like, and she fought the urge to tell him to slow down. "Kid wanted a picture with me." He was visibly upset, but his voice was steady and clear. "And they attacked the convoy. I guess… the truck in front of mine must have hit a mine or something, and then they… shot everybody in my humvee when they got out. And then… they were still shooting at everything and I didn't know what else to do, and I got out and I tried to call Rhodey, but…." He scoffed quietly, shaking his head. He took another gulp, finishing half of what remained in the glass. "And they go and hit me with the one bomb that could get shrapnel through my vest." He had an almost mocking, or maybe self-loathing look in his eyes as he downed the last of the scotch and put the glass on the table with a bit too much force. She didn't reach for the bottle to refill it, less because she didn't want him to have any more than because she didn't even register anything but his story. "Seriously, how fucking stupid do you have to be to design the best bullet-proof vest in the world and then specifically design something that can pierce it?"

She wasn't sure how to comfort him. "Tony, you didn't -"

"Yes I _did_, Pepper!" He was nearly shouting, and she recoiled as he turned the rampant anger in his eyes on her. But he softened considerably when he saw her pull away, and instead focused his rage at the empty glass on the table in front of him, as if he could shatter it through sheer force of will. "The whole point of that bomb was to get shrapnel through the body armor, that was the _goal_." He ran a hand through his hair, and seemed to find its short length odd. "Hadn't even been approved yet, I don't understand how the fuck they got it."

After a quiet minute, he leaned forward and reached for the bottle of scotch. She didn't pay much attention to it. She knew Tony and Stark Industries inside and out - neither did much of anything that Pepper didn't know about, or couldn't easily find out. But the finer details - such as this - sometimes slipped past her. She didn't know that one of the company's official strategies was to try to out-do it's own technology. Tony, yes, he was always trying to out-engineer himself, but that was different. If what he was saying was accurate, he was right - that _was_ an incredibly foolish thing to do. But she wouldn't say so, certainly not now.

She was beginning to better understand the motivations behind his little announcement this morning.

"And then the next thing I know they're filming something." He swirled the liquid in his glass before taking a drink. "What the hell were they saying, anyway?" he murmured, turning to her.

"They…" she began, sure she must have misunderstood him. "There was no video, Tony, there wasn't anything." She shook her head to emphasize the point as he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "They didn't contact anyone about you. As far as anybody knew, you just disappeared off the face of the earth." She paused, considering the possibilities. "Are you sure it wasn't…?"

He stared down at his glass. "No. It was real." The sigh he let out was ragged, and he didn't sound very good at all. She could see him thinking, trying to trace the order of events in his mind, and in an instant he became visibly more upset. "Then somebody knocked me out. There was… there was this other guy there, doctor from Afghanistan…. Yinsen." He rubbed the back of his neck roughly, struggling to continue speaking. "And he tried getting the shrapnel out, but he couldn't get it all. Guess they told him to do whatever he had to to keep me alive."

Pepper shut her eyes tightly against the new wave of fear. Knowing that she had almost lost him was very different from actually hearing about it. Her chest tightened painfully as she forced herself to look at him. But he was shaking his head in disbelief and didn't notice her reaction. "So he went and cut a hole in my chest and stuck some big electromagnet in me. Used a fucking car battery to power it." Pepper could feel her heart racing painfully in her chest as she forced the terror down enough to appear calm. "They wanted me to build a Jericho, and I wouldn't, and… "

He trailed off, but he didn't need to finish. She knew where he was going, and she was grateful he couldn't put it into words. She nodded slowly, watching him play with the scotch in his glass for a few moments. She let silence pass between them, so they could relax and gather their nerves as much as possible. "What did you do?" she asked when she felt strong enough.

His eyes darkened, and she could barely bring herself to acknowledge that he looked ashamed. "Wasn't gonna _do_ anything."

It took a moment to understand his meaning, but the reality of it hit her like a bullet through the heart when it did. "Tony…."

It's not until he looks at her with eyes full of pain and concern that she realizes her voice was shaking and weak. He felt guilty for upsetting her. "Yinsen finally convinced me that I couldn't just sit and do nothing until I died." Instead of fear, this time she felt relieved, grateful to this man who had guided Tony when she wasn't able to. As Tony continued, she hoped that she would be fortunate enough to meet him one day, so she could thank him. "Figured whatever I did, I couldn't be dragging around a car battery. Made this." He tapped the center of his chest, making a muted clink. "It gave off so much power…." He fell quiet and thought for a moment before setting down the glass and standing.

He went over to one of his work stations - stumbling a little, she noticed - and came back a moment later with a pad of paper in his hand. He dropped it on the couch between them as he fell back in his original spot. Pepper stared at it, taking it hesitantly in her hands. She stared at the detailed design he had drawn, her mouth falling open slightly as comprehension hit. "Is this how you got out?"

"Powered it with the arc reactor." Her eyes drifted up to the chest piece of the crude suit. There was a perfect circle in the center where the reactor would be. "Had… flamethrowers and missiles. Jet propulsion system, enough for one push. Bulletproof."

She stared at the design on the paper, up at Tony, and back to the paper. She wasn't sure if she had simply forgotten precisely how much of a genius he was, or if this really was his greatest feat ever. "You built this in a cave?"

"Yeah." He sighed, picked up his glass from the table and finished off the last of his drink. Pepper pulled her eyes away from the paper to look at him again, and his fear had returned. He was afraid of what came next, and that made her afraid, too.

"And when we finally finished it," he paused, as if he couldn't quite comprehend that the events had happened just a few days ago, "we - me and Yinsen - were supposed to use it to get out, but… They caught on while I was putting on the suit, and Yinsen tried to buy me some time. And I got out of the cave, but they'd shot Yinsen, and…."

He trailed off, and it took her a moment to realize that he had nothing else to say on that subject. No heroic rescue of his friend, no bullets that had miraculously missed vital organs…. She felt her heart break, for Yinsen, for Tony's loss and pain, and finally for herself, for her inability to ever thank the man who had sent Tony back to her.

"He told me he had a family he was going back to, he said he wanted to escape for them." His anger was rising, covering what could only be the pain of betrayal and abandonment. "His family was already dead. He lied to me." He stood swiftly, his knuckles white around the empty glass in his hand. It didn't shatter, but made a startling crash when he threw it into the sink. He braced his hands against the edge of the counter, tension stiffening his whole body. She could barely make out a shake of his head. He sighed, and spoke very quietly as if he wasn't sure he wanted her to hear. "And I'm being a prick and getting mad at him for it."

"Tony," she whispered. She wasn't sure what to say - what was there to say to something like this? - but she knew he needed to hear _something_, something to ease his pain and tell him that it was all right to feel whatever he was feeling. "It's okay to be mad that he's gone." She stood, slowly coming up behind him. "I know this is hard, and I don't think he'd blame you for being upset." He hadn't moved from the sink, and let her stand so close beside him that she was almost pressed into him. She placed her hand lightly over his wrist. "I know you were scared -"

"I was _terrified_ Pepper." The confession shocked her, and she could hear the truth in his voice. She didn't know how to react at all - she just stood frozen, hand still on his wrist and practically gaping at him. She didn't' have the faintest clue how to deal with the man in front of her. She had never _met_ him before, not really. She studied him, trying to simply _understand_ what was going on, and she could still see that gripping fear in his eyes. He suddenly pushed away from the counter and moved away, leaving her hand dangling lifelessly at her side. "And then that's not enough, I get to wander around the fucking desert and think I got through all that just to… die alone in the middle of nowhere." His voice broke at the end.

It struck her suddenly, why this was all so strange to her. He was _vulnerable_. More vulnerable than she had ever seen him, and even more so than she ever believed he _could_ be. The Tony Stark she knew - the old Tony - was so cocky and self-centered that his mindset never would have allowed this kind of helplessness to exist in him, and if he ever came close, it would have been suppressed or ignored or pretended away until it was gone. But whatever used to protect him - his arrogance, humor, a mask of indifference that even he probably believed was his real self - was gone now, and he was searching desperately for some other protection from his pain and fear and demons. He was trying to use distance, scotch, and avoidance in the false hope that they might save him. It wasn't working.

But that didn't matter so much - she knew a much better way to protect him. More surely than she had before, she followed him, moved in front of him, and hugged him as tightly as she could. This time, he really did try to pull away, but she only held him tighter. He muttered a few incoherent words, tried to stand taller and pretend he was okay, desperately tried to find that mask and put it back up. But the mask simply didn't exist anymore, and he was failing so miserably at putting up a new one that it nearly broke her heart. She dug her fingers into his back, just a little, to prove that she wasn't going anywhere. "You don't have to pretend with me, Tony," she whispered into his ear.

That seemed too do him in. He was suddenly more eager for the comfort she was offering than for his image or strength or whatever else he was grasping at. A split second after the words had left her mouth, he was clutching at her waist, holding her almost painfully tightly. He held her desperately, like he was drowning and she was the only thing that could save him, like she was the only one in the world he could count on. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing it there much harder than he had in the kitchen earlier. After a moment, as he squeezed her sides compulsively, she felt several warm tears fall to the skin of her shoulder. Through it all, she held him just as tightly.

His grip was beginning to hurt, and the muscles in her hands were quickly becoming sore when he finally spoke. Though the tears had stopped, his voice was still a little breathless, and his words were noticeably slurred, though he was still coherent. "Don't… don't tell anybody about this. Afghanistan, what I said. Okay?" He took in a slow, deep breath and let it all out in a rush. "Don't wanna have to talk about this with everyone five thousand times. Not even Rhodey or Obie, 'kay?"

Pepper smiled, loosening her hands and pulling back just enough to ease the pain of his grip. "I won't tell a soul, Tony. I promise."

He relaxed his arms, letting his hands rest over her hips as he put a few inches of space between them. She cupped his face with both hands, running her thumbs under his eyes and over his cheeks to dry them. The smile she gave him was kind, reassuring and gentle. "Are you okay?" She lowered her hands, one going to his shoulder, the other resting by her side.

He blinked, considering. "Tired." He certainly seemed to be.

"Do you feel any better?"

They were still very close. She looked up into his eyes and found him already staring into hers. They were bloodshot and worn, but so intense that they shocked her more than a little. She barely registered that they were shocking more because they were turned so steadfastly on her than for any other reason. She vaguely registered the sensation of one of his hands releasing her hip, but she didn't think anything of it until the fingers of that same hand were brushing ever so lightly against her cheek. She flinched at the soft, gentle touch, suddenly alert and uncertain. His eyes narrowed and he studied her for a moment, and finally, he dropped the hand back down to his side.

"Yeah," he whispered. He took a larger step back, and she took one of her own, feeling a slight flush spread across her face. Tony nodded a little, a small, battered, but genuinely grateful smile on his face. "Thank you, Pepper. For…" He trailed off, gesturing absently.

Pepper smiled, too, willing her skin to return to it's normal shade. "You're welcome, Tony."

She guided him back upstairs and to his room. She fished an aspirin out of the bottle in his bathroom, just to be safe, and he took it without protest. She reluctantly made her way back to the guest room once he was in bed, and she lay wide awake for almost twenty minutes, her mind flooded with the information and changes and emotions and touches of the last hour. Somehow it all added up and blended together so that she was left feeling sad and grateful and happy and still _flustered_ from those gentle fingers on her skin.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Potts."

"Is Tony asleep?"

"He is. He fell asleep shortly after you left his bedroom."

She sighed, burying her face in the silk-covered pillow, and finally fell asleep herself. They both slept through the rest of the night.


	6. Friends

Just-written chapter, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

There's one more chapter to go, so enjoy!

--

Divergence

Chapter Six

"Friends"

--

Jarvis woke her at 6:00 the next morning, as he always did when she spent the night at the mansion. She dressed in some of the spare clothes she kept there. As she put on the makeup she kept in the guest bathroom, she instructed Jarvis to let Tony sleep as long as he wanted. Once she had poured herself a cup of coffee, she headed up to her office, and sat down to her computer.

Afraid to check her inbox (assuming it was still there and hadn't exploded in cyberspace from an unthinkable overload of e-mails), she wrote a brief, generic statement about Tony's decision and his reasons for it, to be sent to the reporters asking about yesterday's press conference. She wrote nothing for the ones who asked about his captivity. Those would receive a very simple reply of "no comment," and not another word more. She had made a promise, and she intended to keep it.

She dove right into the e-mails without even checking how many there were. She kept going for some unknown but probably ridiculous amount of time, not looking up from her screen once until a slightly groggy and hung over Tony stuck his head through her office door, complaining of hunger.

It didn't take much effort to pull her away from her work and down to the kitchen for a breakfast of cereal, toast and juice. They ate quietly, watching the news which, amazingly, didn't bother him. Whenever the press conference was mentioned or discussed, he listened closely, absorbing the words without comment or distress. He was relaxed - not perfect, maybe, but _so_ much better than he was yesterday. She was glad she had stayed, glad she had comforted him and coaxed him into opening up to her.

When he finished, he announced that he would be working in the shop if she needed him, and headed downstairs. Once Pepper had rinsed out their dishes and put them into the dishwasher, she retrieved her laptop and settled down on the expansive living room couch. As it turned out, never checking the number of e-mails in the first place had been a good idea - it meant she never had to know how many had inevitably come in during breakfast.

Another unknown expanse of time passed before she was startled by Rhodey's voice from the entryway. She set down her laptop on the petrified tree stump that served as the coffee table, and stood to meet him. She found him wearing his Air Force uniform, smiling politely.

"Hey," she greeted. "You off to work?"

He nodded. "Thought I'd stop by before heading to the base."

"Would you like some coffee or anything?" she asked, heading toward the kitchen. "What's up?"

He followed her, sitting down at the table. "No coffee, thanks. I just came by to see how Tony's doing. Where is he exactly?"

"Oh, he's working on something in the shop. I'll get him -"

"No, actually. I, uh…" Pepper paused halfway through a step out of the kitchen. She raised a confused eyebrow at him. "How's he doing? I mean yesterday was…. " He laughed almost nervously to finish the sentence.

His tone was unnerving - she wasn't sure what he would say, but she already knew it wasn't going to be good. She had seen the fallen look on his face immediately after Tony's announcement the day before, and after that little _incident_ a month ago… well, his confidence in Tony was hardly high, and he wasn't one to stand by when he thought things were out of line. "Well," she said, sounding as assured as she could, "it's a big change, I'll admit, but… three months can be a long time. A lot can happen."

"Not as much as you think," he replied, a dark and disbelieving undertone in his voice.

"No, Rhodey, you don't understand. Tony is…." Pepper searched for the right word to describe what Tony had become, how he had changed, and finally the answer she had been searching for since yesterday hit her hard. _This_ Tony, the man who cared about the consequences of his actions, who wanted to do right in the world, who had vulnerabilities and a heart, was the _real_ Tony, only no one, maybe even Tony himself, ever knew that until yesterday. "He's _different_. He's _better_, a better person." With the new revelation that all she had seen for the last five years was a façade that had, apparently, shattered and been left behind in Afghanistan, her mind began to race. "He hasn't hit on any women even a little bit, including me. He's not arrogant, he hasn't been walking around like he rules the world like he used to, he hasn't made any crude jokes at anyone else's expense - I mean, he's joked a little, but it's not - they're just jokes, nothing more. And he even wrote a letter to the weapons division employees by himself! Like, _wrote it_, wrote it. And then he looked it over _with_ me, he didn't just throw it in my lap and -"

Rhodes sighed loudly and impatiently. "Pepper, nothing's changed."

She stopped babbling, trying to process. "What? Weren't you just listening?" Her short laugh was half nervous, half incredulous.

"_Nothing_ has _changed_." He shook his head as if he was speaking to a difficult child. He stood and moved closer to her. "I've seen this before, Pepper, a thousand times, went through it myself way back when. It's called post-traumatic stress disorder. It's messing with his head, and when he gets over it, the old Tony that we know and love will be back with a vengeance."

Pepper stared dumbly at him for several seconds, able to focus only on the uncomfortable feeling of her rising blood pressure. After a moment, her anger kicked her back into motion. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. I can't believe you're _doing_ this again…." She shook her head, trying to control her emotions and the sudden desire to react in the same way she had a month ago.

"Pepper, the real Tony -"

"That's just _it_, Rhodey - this _is_ the real Tony."

He sighed, clearly trying to damp down his frustration. "He has classic -"

Okay, she'd had enough of this. "I have absolutely no doubt he has post-traumatic stress, there's no way he _couldn't_ after what they did to him, but -"

"Wait, did he tell you what happened over there?"

The question caught her off guard, and she nearly gave the automatic and defensive response of "yes" before she remembered her promise to Tony. She acted quickly, thanking her almost superhuman professionalism for making her words believable. "He didn't have to." She took a deep breath, forcing her words to be calm and even. "I can guess well enough. But whether he has it or not has no bearing on the fact that this is the real Tony. It always has been, Rhodey. The only difference is that now he's not hiding behind some stupid, arrogant, billionaire playboy mask."

"Just because you _want_ this to be the real Tony doesn't mean that it _is_." His voice was more sympathetic this time, but still frustrated and doubtful.

"And it doesn't mean that it's not. That conscience you saw yesterday, that part about actually caring about people other than himself? That's been there as long as I've known him. The only thing that's changed is the fact that it's actually visible now." She narrowed her eyes at him, digging her nails into her palms for self-control. "I know Tony better than pretty much anybody, and I'd say that includes you right about now."

"Don't treat me that way, I care about Tony as much as you do."

She folded her arms tightly under her chest, now fully glaring at him. "Yes, I think you made that _abundantly_ clear a month ago."

"Don't bring that up."

"Why not, Rhodey? It's relevant -"

He was quickly losing patience with her. "Will you please let it go?"

She gaped openly at him, her eyes wide. Her heart was instantly racing, and it was all she could do not to scream. "You asked me to write his _obituary_… and you want me to _let it go_?" Her voice was rising, and she had no desire to keep it down. "You had absolutely no faith that he could survive then, and you have no faith in his ability to be a decent human being now. You're supposed to be his best friend, why don't you start acting like it?"

"I am," he replied harshly at nearly the same volume. There was a long pause, the air between them permeated by mutual anger, and something close to loathing. He hadn't changed his opinion on the matter, but he seemed to have lost the desire to argue. "Well, when -"

"_If_."

"_When_ he starts coming to his senses and rethinking the weapons shutdown, do us all a favor and don't stand in the way." He turned away and headed out toward the front door. "I'll be checking in," he said, calling over his shoulder before he was out of sight.

Pepper didn't move until she heard the front door close. When it did, she turned and leaned against the counter behind her, gripping the edge tightly. Her limbs had suddenly turned to jelly, and she was almost shaking. It was a long time before she was able to will her racing heart to slow and her adrenaline to ebb enough for her to return to the living room, and continue her work.


	7. Heart

Well, all, I regret to inform you that this is the final chapter of this fic. (Well, I'm not SO regretful - this fic has been a pain and it's _finally_ done.) But fear not, my muse is still obsessed with Iron Man, and there shall be plenty more fics to come. At the moment, I've started writing for the Pepperony 100 community over on livejournal (yeah, I know, finally hopped on the over-crowded bandwagon). My goal is to write a fic for all 100 themes, so I won't be posting them here on until I either reach my goal or give up. I also hope to find the time for regular fics, to be posted here.

I apologize profusely for the late post. You may blame 4persephone.

So, loyal readers, enjoy your final chapter. :)

--

Divergence

Chapter Seven

"Heart"

--

She threw herself back into her work, diligently and quickly sorting through Tony's e-mail - which now included messages from Agent Coulson, Obadiah, every individual member of the board of directors, Dr. Phil, Oprah and Larry King - and trying to banish any other thoughts from her troubled mind.

She actually did a good job of it, too, and managed to work through an hour and a half of rather uncomfortable hunger before she couldn't take it anymore. She reluctantly returned to the kitchen, knowing that her momentum was lost and there was virtually no hope of regaining the same unwavering focus she had had all morning. But, she reasoned, she would have lost it anyway if she passed out from hunger, and at least this way she could watch TV while she ate. She was going to have to find out what the world was saying about Tony and Stark Industries sooner or later.

Although once she sat down with her lunch and began flipping between CNN, Fox News, CNBC, and any other channel that was playing anything related to yesterday, she really wished she didn't. It seemed as though much of America shared Rhodey's sentiments. All Pepper heard, over and over and _over_ again was words like "Post-traumatic stress" and "huge mistake," or even "insanity."

And hate it though she did, Pepper couldn't bring herself to turn off the TV when she finished eating and had to return to her work. Although she had expected and anticipated every word she heard, she still found most of it shocking, and half the time she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Everyone was _against_ him completely. It was as if everyone was mad at him for suddenly discovering his conscience, and listening to it and trying to do some good in the world for a change. No one seemed to want that man - all they cared about was getting the old war-mongering Merchant of Death back for the sake of their stocks and "national security" and continued American dominance on the international stage. It was no wonder the old Tony Stark had ever existed - the world wanted him, and they helped create and foster him. And now that he had come to his senses and wanted out of that twisted symbiotic relationship, he was being punished for it.

She flipped over to CNBC just as Mad Money was starting, now totally resigned to the fact that she could neither multitask effectively, nor turn off the TV. So she settled for just watching, and doing work during commercials. Although once Jim Cramer started in on his usual over-the-top rant, she knew there was a fair possibility she'd be too livid during commercials to work even then (the words "Stark Raving Mad" displayed boldly in the background were enough to make her want to punch him). She had already been tempted enough as it was to call in to most of these shows and give them a piece of her mind on the air, but with the way things were going, and with her promise to Tony, she couldn't say enough to do any good. And anyway, the head of PR would kill her - she could handle him, but it still wouldn't do any good. Even though she knew this, when Cramer shattered the Stark Industries coffee mug with the bat (in her mind she could only see him shattering Tony himself) she very seriously contemplated grabbing her phone and -

"Pepper!"

She jumped, thinking she had been caught not working, and quickly turned down the volume.

"Uh," Tony began, almost hesitantly, "how big are your hands?"

"What?"

"How big are your hands?" he repeated, more surely.

What did her hands have to do with anything? "I don't understand, why -"

"Get down here, I need you."

She was grateful for the opportunity to see him again, although she tried to tell herself she just wanted to check up on him. But as she stood to go meet him, she couldn't help but feel a little fear. What if they were right? What if Rhodey and every news commentator she had seen today were right, and this new Tony really was only temporary? What if the Merchant of Death was still there, biding his time until he could emerge again?

She paused at the top of the stairs, forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath. There was no need to jump to conclusions - she knew what she had seen yesterday and last night. She knew Tony. And logically, she knew that her doubts were unreasonable and unfounded, even if that knowledge didn't prevent the thoughts from entering her mind. She would watch him closely when she went downstairs, take careful note of his every word and action, and look below the surface to see what was really there.

To start with, the way he said "Hey" when she came in was soft and vulnerable. She could hear the trust that carried through his voice as he asked to see her hands. Of course, when she got closer to his shirtless form, she had to steel herself and fight down her own fear of what she knew she was about to see. Her plan functionally went out the window when she saw the second arc reactor in his hand, and she couldn't focus on his words and actions enough to determine if he was being genuine or not, if she was seeing the true and permanent Tony Stark.

But a few things he said, and how he said them, were significant enough to break through her fearfully intent focus on the rather large hole in his chest.

When she couldn't bring herself to reach into his chest - _why_ was he asking her to do this? - and insisted she wasn't qualified, he smiled up at her. "You are the most capable, qualified, trustworthy person I have ever met. You're gonna do great." She knew he only said it to give her a confidence boost, and calm her down enough to do what he needed, but it didn't make the words any less genuine. He wasn't bullying or teasing her into doing this, he was trying to _help_ her do it. And when she met his eyes, she could see that he really did trust her completely. The old Tony never would have spoken those words.

And then when he was going into cardiac arrest - and God only knows why she didn't, too - some part of her managed to process the fact that he had put his trust in her to do this, and she had gone and screwed it up. She promised him that she would make everything okay. It wasn't until his heart was beating regularly again that she realized that she was referring to more than the immediate situation - much more.

"Are you okay?" she pleaded, desperate for a confirmation of what the monitors were telling her.

"Yeah, I feel great," he replied, looking up at her casually. "Are you okay?"

Pepper could only stare incredulously at him. And then he was laughing - laughing _at_ her, technically, but she didn't much care, because even through her still-racing heart and fading adrenaline, she knew that it wasn't mocking or pompous, as it would have been three months ago. This was only a genuine, relaxed response to her expression. Part of her brain, though, was still too freaked out to let him get away with it. "Don't ever…" Through a steadying breath, she couldn't help but laugh a little herself. "…ever, ever, _ever_ ask me to do anything like that _ever_ again!"

He was shaking his head even as she said the words. "I - I don't have anyone but you."

On instinct and years of conditioning, she thought it was a line. But then as she looked into his eyes, she felt her own widen slightly in absolute shock when she saw that he really meant it. She stood there dumbly for several seconds, struggling to wrap her head around what were quite possibly the most startling words she had ever heard come out of his mouth. This honest man in front of her, open and vulnerable and caring, was _absolutely_ the real Tony Stark.

But then she saw a quick flash of fear and uncertainty cross his face, as if he hadn't intended to say the words, and he was suddenly _too_ vulnerable. As he made a face and started plucking the sensors off of his chest, he struggled to retrieve his old mask. He was hiding, running from his own words.

He stood, and she wiped her hands and the original reactor with the towel he had lying nearby. She took it in her hands and turned to him just as he was setting a clear cover over the reactor in his chest. It felt strange, to hold the thing that had been preserving his life in her hands. She wasn't sure if she liked the feeling, or hated it. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"That?" He stared at the device, considering. "Destroy it. Incinerate it."

Pepper was surprised by how much those words hurt her. She stared up at him incredulously. "You don't want to keep it?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

"Pepper, I've been called many things, but nostalgic is not one of them."

What remained of his mask, what he wore now was more obvious than the full one had ever been. She wanted to scream, to tell him to knock it off, _something_, but instead she hung her head, just a little. "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That'll be all, Miss Potts." The confidence in those words was not genuine. It was the kind that came along with the mask. So she left him, holding the reactor delicately between her fingers, feeling it's warmth. She didn't focus on his voice as he began talking to Butterfingers, just slowly made her way upstairs.

She wished that damn mask would just go away forever, and let the real Tony thrive. _She_ could protect him from the world and everyone who was against him, the way the mask used to. She could help him learn to be strong without it… if he'd let her.

When she returned to the living room, she sat back down on the ottoman she had been using before. She sighed, turning the reactor in her hands. Some part of her mind was still whispering that Rhodey was right, even though deep down she knew that he wasn't, and she was scared of that. His heart was _there_, it always had been, buried beneath the surface. She could see it clearly yesterday, last night, and just now in the shop, and she didn't want it to be hidden anymore. She wondered, what if he was scared, too? What if he was afraid to let his heart and his true self show to the world, or even to her?

She sighed, and forced her mind to focus on the fact that this didn't mean that the man that existed now wasn't the real Tony, that she was wrong or that the mask would return. She reminded herself that even before he had been captured - even way back when she had first started working for him - his heart had been there, and she had always been able to see it, even when no one else could. He had a heart, she knew it, and she was holding the proof in her hands. Maybe… maybe he just needed some encouragement. Maybe he just needed to know that it was okay to stay this way, to let his heart show and to listen to it. That she _wanted_ it to show. That she would be there for him, to help him learn to live without the façade, and protect him until he did.

She stared at the reactor a little more closely. He had built this thing to preserve his own life, so that he could come back home and do some good with that life. It kept his heart alive, and she wanted it to stay that way.

She felt a little superstitious for the thought, but a part of her couldn't help but believe that as long as the little device in her hands was intact, his heart would be, too.

Pepper stood slowly, and headed into her office. She opened one of her desk drawers, and pushed a few items aside. Giving the reactor one last, long look, she set it down, and closed the drawer.

_Destroy it_, she thought with a smile. _Yeah right_.


End file.
